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T hunder clapped causing Beatrice to jump and spill her tea.

“Beatrice, dear, are you all right?” Charlotte’s words carried worry, but seeing how much she spilled on herself, her mother’s worry was most likely for Beatrice’s dress and not for her daughter’s emotional state.

Eleanor handed Beatrice a napkin. With a small nod of thanks to her sister, Beatrice began to blot the tea, hoping it didn’t cause too much damage. “I’m fine, Mama.” She all but sighed the words.

Truth was her nerves were frayed. It had been almost a week since she snuck out to Graham’s residence and she hadn’t received word from him yet. He told her to be patient but she couldn’t help to think he was reconsidering.

What if he never meant to follow through? What if he didn’t take me seriously and it was all for a bit of fun?

Beatrice grimaced as she sipped what was left of her tea.

“Are you sure you’re doing well, Beatrice?” Her old sister asked. Beatrice glanced at Eleanor. Unlike her mother, Eleanor most likely did care about her sister’s wellbeing.

Beatrice’s eyes tracked to the rain hitting the window. “I suppose it’s just the weather. Storms make me quite anxious.”

Sarah scrunched her nose. “They never used to. You would always say they were perfect for reading and since your prefer books to people, rainy days gave you an excuse to read.”

Beatrice huffed. “Well I guess I have changed my mind, haven’t I? If others can do it, why can’t I?”

Beatrice cringed.

“What has gotten into you, Beatrice?” Charlotte chastised.

She sat her tea cup down on the side table and stood. “I’m sorry, Sarah, I really am. I’m feeling very anxious for some reason.”

Beatrice stalked to the window. She prayed no one would ask any follow up questions.

“Why?” Sarah asked.

Beatrice wanted to bang her head against the window. Curse her for being born into a family of nosey women.

She lifted a shoulder.

“Ah. I know.” Charlotte said, victoriously.

The blood flowing through Beatrice’s veins froze. Did her mother know? But how? Did she see her sneak out? Did she have her followed?

With what she hoped was casual interest she turned to face her mother and sisters.

Eleanor laughed. “Well, do enlighten us, Mama. We’re all waiting with bated breath.”

“Yes, Mama. I would love to know why I’m anxious.” Beatrice tried her best to sound light and unaware but it came out rushed and curt.

“Lady Joynor’s ball is coming up and it’s one of the last of the season. You had promised me that you would give it your all. I suspect you’re having a change of heart and may want to find love after all.” Charlotte looked quite pleased with herself.

Relief flooded her system.

Sarah laughed. “Mama. What makes you think Beatrice changed her mind?”

Beatrice turned back to the window and leaned her head against the window, the cool pane helped slow down her racing her heart. The thought of her mother knowing about her pact with the Duke terrified her.

Charlotte tsked. “You two are never around any more, you don’t see what I see.

Your sister has changed over the past week.

She’s been flittering around here with so much energy and life.

Whether she knows it or not, something has changed within her and I think her mind is finally coming around to the idea of marriage.

” Charlotte tapped her temple. “A mother knows these things.”

Sarah and Eleanor exchanged a look of disbelief before turning their gaze to an equally confused Beatrice.

She could admit that since meeting with the Duke, and with the possibility of her checking everything off her list, she had been more cheerful and excited.

To her mother’s defense, it’s not like Beatrice could be truthful about why she was acting more optimistic. Since making the pact with the Duke, Beatrice no longer fought with her mother about what to wear to a ball, or rolled her eyes at any society gossip her mother brought to her.

The Duke gave her a way to fulfill her wildest dreams and in doing so, she felt removed from the restraints of society. Hearing about the comings and goings of the peerage was no longer duty-bound but entertaining.

She could see how her mother could confuse her relief for not having to be a part of society as finally accepting her place in said society.

However, the further she got away from that night, the more anxious she became. Beatrice returned her sister’s looks with another shrug. Her mind was whirling with what-ifs and made up scenarios. The barrage of thoughts caused her head to throb.

Beatrice was saved by a knock on the parlor door. Daniels, their butler, opened the door with an envelope on a tray.

“Pardon the interruption, Your Graces, but this letter just arrived for Lady Beatrice.”

Once again all three sets of eyes drifted to Beatrice who stood there unmoved.

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea who is sending me a letter.” She huffed as she trudged over to the butler.

She took the envelope and opened it only to feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She turned to see her mother leaning forward to try and see what she held in her hands.

“Do you mind?” Beatrice chided.

Sarah laughed. “Now Beatrice, your mother is just looking out for you.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I liked you better before you became a mother.”

Eleanor snorted as she took a sip of her tea.

“Well,” Charlotte huffed. “Are you going to tell us who it’s from? Is it from a suitor?” She asked hopefully.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “No, Mama. It’s from Jane. She wants to know what I’m wearing to the Joynor’s ball. And she added a line asking if there will be any good food at Sarah’s dinner party next week.”

Sarah’s laugh echoed throughout the parlor. “Your friend Jane loves my cook, doesn’t she? Whenever we have a party she is always hovering around the dessert table.”

Charlotte sniffed. “She shouldn’t be. She’s a lovely girl but sometimes…”

“Mama.” Eleanor’s voice warned. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence. Jane is a lovely girl and I hear her she has several interested suitors including a Duke’s son and Lord Dancary.”

Charlotte lifted a shoulder. “I don’t mean to talk ill of the girl, I’m just saying.”

Sarah sighed. “We all know what you’re saying, Mama.” She looked to Beatrice. “Tell her we’ll have all of her favorites because they just so happen to my favorites as well.” She said with a wink.

Beatrice folded the paper back into the envelope. “I think I’ll go write to her now.” She looked at her sisters. “Do either of you mind if I retreat to answer her letter?”

Eleanor nodded as Sarah added, “We’ll see you at our dinner party next week. I can’t wait to hear all about the Joynor ball.”

Beatrice gave each sister and her mother a kiss on their cheeks before retiring to her room.

She shut the door behind her and walked to her desk, her hand cramping from how tightly she held the envelope.

With a glance over her shoulder to make sure the door was closed and locked she opened the envelope.

Dearest Mouse,

I hope this letter finds you well. Below you will find directions to a meeting place. Meet me there tonight exactly at midnight, not a minute after. You are to wear a nightgown and the mask you wore for your failed attempt at gaining access to a particular party.

I look forward to crossing an item off your list tonight.

G.

Beatrice could hear her heart beating between her ears. She read the note several times, running her fingertips over the words he wrote. Almost as if her finger could pick up more information about him and their rendezvous.

She glanced at her father’s time piece on her desk. She had several hours before midnight, and thought of sitting around just waiting was too much for her to bear.

She rang for Candace.

“I need to bathe.” The words rushed out.

Candace looked at her. “But it’s…”

“I spilled tea all over me, and I tripped in the garden earlier, I… can you draw me a bath? Is this the middle ages? I don’t need a reason to bathe, do I?”

Candace took a step inside the room and leaned forward. “Is everything all right, Lady Beatrice?”

Beatrice pushed out a breath. “Yes! Why is everyone asking me that today?”

Candace shrugged. “You seem a bit on edge is all.”

Beatrice’s face lit up. “You’re right! I’m on edge and a nice bath will help calm me.”

Candace raised an eyebrow before quickly glancing over her shoulder. “Does this have anything to do with your list?” She whispered.

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. “No. In fact, I think I’m going to take a break from that, give my mother what she wants until the end of the season.”

Candace breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful to hear, Lady Beatrice.” She brought her hands up. “Not that I think you were wrong in pursuing your own dreams, it’s just,” she laid a hand over her chest and let out another breath, “it was very stressful for me.” She laughed.

Beatrice rolled her lips. “I know, and I’m sorry. But, we don’t have to worry about for right now. Right now I could use a nice relaxing bath.”

Candace dipped her head. “I’ll see to it.”

After Candace closed the door Beatrice walked over to her dresser and pulled out a nightgown.

She raised an eyebrow. While holding the nightgown she walked back to her desk where the letter laid in the open. She cringed. She was lucky Candace didn’t come into the room, she could have seen this.

She picked up the note and reread it. It said nightgown.

Beatrice looked at the gown in her hands.

Where could we possibly be going that would require me to wear a nightgown?

She ruminated over that question for a moment before a more pressing one came to mind. What item would they be checking off?

Beatrice found herself once again scurrying down a side street in the same direction as her previous attempts to attend a midnight party. Only this time she turned down an alley several blocks before the main square. Luckily for her it wasn’t far from her house and she knew the area quite well.

When she turned into the alley she saw Graham standing next to his carriage. She knew it was him immediately. He wore the same mask he was wearing the night she met him and he looked just as formidable yet enticing.

Her heart fluttered as she neared him.

“Good evening,” he said with a bow. His eyes raked over her causing her hands to pull her cloak over her. Only she wasn’t wearing one.

The night was chilly, but his letter said nothing about a cloak and she didn’t want to disobey him on his first order.

Instead she folded her arms across her chest to stave off the chill in the air.

Graham clocked the movement and smiled. “No coat?”

She shuffled her feet. “You only listed the nightgown and the mask.”

“Good girl.” He purred.

His words heated her blood and she dropped her hands.

She took his offered hand as she stepped into the carriage.

Once the carriage took off towards their destination Beatrice finally took in the man sitting opposite of her.

He was dressed in his normal clothes, his cravat tucked neatly into his shirt and waist coat, with a lighter coat overtop. Other than the mask he wore he looked like he was going to any ordinary event the ton may be holding.

She shivered. And she was in a nightgown.

“Where are we going?”

Graham tilted his head. “No questions.”

She scrunched her nose. “I thought that meant about what we were doing, not, where we would be going.”

He raised an eyebrow in reply. She knew it was a feeble excuse but the curiosity was too much for her.

“It’s just you’re fully dressed and I’m in a nightgown. As much as I wish to complete my list I do not wish to make a mockery of myself.”

She saw a shift in his eyes and crossed her fingers, hoping he would relay some piece of information to settle her nerves.

“Very well.” He acquiesced. “You’ve been wanting to attend one of the midnight parties on Water Street, have you not?”

Beatrice nodded.

Graham reached within his jacket and pulled out a thick piece of paper with gold embossed lettering on the front. “I have acquired you an invitation. Tonight we party with the revelers.”

She took the offered card stock and ran her fingers over top of the raised words.

“The Revelers are what the party hosts call themselves.” Graham offered. “It’s a group of people who get together to enjoy the… finer things in life without judgement or recourse.”

Beatrice’s eyes lifted to his at his tone. “How do you mean?”

A corner of Graham’s lips quirked up. “That, little mouse, you’ll have to wait for. You’ll understand when you get there.”

Just then the carriage pulled up to a familiar house. It was the same one she was turned away from.

She shifted in her seat when Graham’s hand came down on her thigh. Her eyes flew to his.

“Before we go, I have some rules for tonight.” His tone was serious and unrelenting.

Beatrice was about to groan. He already laid down rules. If he was going to add a rule with every outing would his help even be worth it?

“I’m serious Beatrice, we are not leaving this carriage until you agree. It is for your own safety.”

Beatrice’s rebuttal dried on her tongue. “My safety?”

Graham nodded. “You are not to touch anyone tonight. Do you understand?”

Confusion clouded Beatrice’s mind. “Why would I touch-”

Graham raised his hand to silence her. “Your word, Beatrice.”

She shook her head. “You have my word.”

Graham stared at her. “If you disobey this order there will be repercussions, do you understand?”

Beatrice tried to swallow but her mouth had run dry. She surprised herself when she managed to say, “I understand.”

Graham hesitated before nodding. He stepped out of the carriage and turned, offering her his hand.

With the invitation in one hand, she reached out and took his hand as she stepped out of the carriage and into the cool summer night air.

His grip tightened around her as he whispered in her ear. “No touching, Beatrice, or there will be consequences.”

She nodded in understanding. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what consequences there possibly could be but she thought better of it.

Graham walked her to the door that was being guarded by the same monster of a man who had turned her away the last time.

Graham looked down at her. “Last chance.”

Beatrice looked at him then to the guard. Her eyes dropped to the invitation in her hand. Graham was giving her one last chance to back out, to turn around and go back to the safety of her mother’s home, to the sheltered safety of society.

She didn’t know what laid behind those doors but she knew it would most likely change her.

She looked back up to Graham. With a smile she handed the invitation the guard and met the brutish man’s eyes.

“I told you I’d be back with my invitation.”